Related articles and links |  1 of 3

The profundity of director Kevin Smith's movies can be charted in the evolution of his recurring drug-dealer character, Silent Bob (a part Smith himself plays). In Smith's first two and most juvenile films, Clerks and Mallrats, Silent Bob's quietude was a mix of Zen detachment and stoned disinterest. Then Bob broke his silence in Smith's more intelligent third film, Chasing Amy, to deliver a monologue driving home the movie's point; at last he had something important to say. If that's the case, then Silent Bob's transformation in Dogma from zoned-out observer to full-fledged participator—he still doesn't talk but he communicates frantically in mine-like pantomimes—gives us an indication that now Smith has something really important to say. In fact, Christians would agree it's really the most important thing anyone can say: God is sovereign and Jesus is Savior.

So why all the fuss over the film from religious organizations? If you've followed the news about Dogma at all you've heard that protests from The Catholic League and other religious groups caused Disney-owned Miramax Films to drop the movie. (It's now being distributed by Lion's Gate, though the American Family Association has still called for a Disney boycott—go figure.) Objections toward the film ranged from its raunchy sexual humor and rampant obscenities to its inaccurate theology and its supposed attack on the Roman Catholic Church. I could see the point of these criticisms if Smith's objective were to shock religious moviegoers with his outrageous antics, but on the TV show Politically Incorrect Smith said his aim was instead "to speak about faith to an audience that doesn't really think about faith or go to church anymore." In other words, he's trying to shock his disaffected Gen-X audience with a truthful conversation about his Catholic faith.

Cleanliness is less than godliness
Dogma is a kind of comic fable that centers around a lapsed Catholic (Linda Fiorentino) whose faith is gradually restored when God calls her to stop two fallen angels (Ben Affleck and Matt Damon) from trying to reenter heaven, thereby negating all existence. Along the way she trades humorous theological banter with those who gradually join her party: messenger angel Metatron (Alan Rickman), a thirteenth apostle named Rufus (Chris Rock), who was left out of the Bible because he was black, former muse Serendipity (Salma Hayek), and Smith mainstays Silent Bob and Jay (Jason Mewes), who are raised to the status of prophets in this film. If it sounds like a jumbled mess, that's because to some degree it is. From a pure filmmaking standard, Smith's story is overlong and disjointed, he's drawn uneven performances out of his cast, many of his punchlines fall flat, and his special effects are horribly cheesy. Really, only a glimpse of who God is gets through the bluster.

But again, consider his audience is one that would more likely pick up a comic book than a novel about the Tribulation, or tune in to South Park instead of a TV movie about Mary. A glimpse of God coming from a peer's honest wrestling with religion might wake a spiritual hunger more effectively than a lecture of a thousand pat answers could. Smith's complex depiction of God—powerful, patient, righteous, joyful, wise, merciful, and utterly beyond our comprehension—tells audiences that perhaps they haven't thought enough about who God is to dismiss him so casually. And by all reports it's working: USA Today's Susan Wloszczyna writes in her review, "I personally haven't thought this deeply about the religion of my birth since being confirmed," and Charles Taylor of Salon.com says, "if Dogma can move an old agnostic like me, it can move anybody."

next page... |  1 of 3

share this page

November 15 1999, Vol. 43, No. 13